


Understanding

by Grey (grey853)



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Angst, Drama, First Times, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 02:55:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/793240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grey853/pseuds/Grey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Jim worries that Blair is going to leave him, he discovers a whole different reason for his guide's strange behavior.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Understanding

## Understanding

Grey

Author's website: <http://grey.ravenshadow.net/>

* * *

Disclaimers: Jim and Blair do not belong to me, but to each other. 

Summary: Jim gets worried that Blair is ready to leave him, but discovers a whole different reason for his guide's strange behavior. 

* * *

Understanding  
by Grey 

"If you can't do a simple documentation of evidence, why do you even bother submitting a damn report? I've seen better data follow-up from under-aged desk clerks." Detective James Ellison towered over the new lab tech Tad Watson begging for a challenge. The poor boy, barely out of college, looked more like a whipped pup than a grown man on the job. 

Before Watson could whimper a reply, Captain Simon Banks bellowed intervention. "Watson, you're needed back down at forensics. Ellison, my office. Now." 

"But, sir..." 

"No buts. Now." 

Anger still ripe on his cheeks, his lips tight, Jim tossed the file on his desk and stomped past his superior. Simon closed the blinds and shut the door behind them, fully aware of the concerned glances from the rest of the bullpen. Giving his detective a few moments to huff and control his breathing, the captain stepped behind his desk and carefully poured himself a cup of coffee. 

"Why don't you sit down?" 

"I don't want to sit down. I have work to do." 

"I know you have work to do, Jim. I'm your boss. Remember? But you also have time to sit down a minute and tell me what the hell's bothering you." 

Rubbing his hands anxiously, Jim paced in front of the window not looking at anything in particular. His whole body tensed, stiff with each movement, his shoulders pulled back too rigid and straight. "Nothing's bothering me." 

"Uh huh. Is that why you're ripping a new asshole for that poor kid Watson?" 

Jim stopped abruptly, his voice harsh. "Half the people around here don't have a clue about procedure, Simon. Do you have any idea how many times I've asked that kid for a simple report and had incomplete data instead? And it's not just the lab. It seems like everyone around here goes out of their way to screw up something simple. It took me over an hour this morning just to track down the arrest report on the Taylor case and then another to follow up the confirmation to get a copy of the deposition on Baker. Time wasted. I mean, I don't know what's wrong with people lately. Nobody seems to even care about doing things right." 

"You finished?" 

Jim glanced up to see the troubled expression on his captain's face. He brought both hands up from his side in a questioning gesture. "What?" 

"Jim, I understand that the job's frustrating, tracking down reports, checking details, but it's always been that way. None of this is new. It's your reaction to it that's different. What's going on?" 

Jim wiped the sweat off his forehead and then pinched the bridge of his nose, his eyes squeezed shut. "Nothing. I'm just tired, that's all." 

"Tired of the job, your life, people in general? What?" 

"Take your pick, sir." 

"Listen, Jim. Maybe you need some downtime." 

He shook his head and finally sagged into the chair across from his captain. "No, I'm okay, but maybe I will take some of that coffee now." 

Pouring his friend some fresh brew, Simon handed it to him and waited while he took a sip. "Jim, seven different people have come to me in the last week complaining about your behavior." 

"Seven?" 

"Now, don't get me wrong. Everyone who came in here prefaced the complaint with a concern for your health and attitude. Even Rhonda mentioned that you'd jumped all over her for some kind of phone transfer screw up." 

"I'm sorry, sir. I just snapped a little. It really wasn't her fault." 

"Tell her, not me. The main thing is that it takes a lot to get to Rhonda. She puts up with a hell of a lot of shit around here from visitors. She doesn't need to take it from one of the people who work here. It's just not like you." 

"I know. I'll apologize to her later." 

"Yeah, I know you will. And the list goes on. I've seen you stomping around here for the last few weeks snarling like some kind of pissed off tiger. Tell me what's up with you." 

"Nothing. I'm just tired. I haven't been sleeping much. 

"And why's that?" 

"No reason really. Look, Simon, I'll try to settle down and do better. Give me the list of complaints and I'll send flowers or something." Jim failed to meet the unappeased and the not least bit amused stare his Captain gave him. 

"Don't be an asshole, Jim. An apology will do nicely. Now, another question." 

"Joy." 

"Jim." 

The warning tone of his captain's impatience forced the detective to cancel the next snide remark. "Sorry." 

"Where's Sandburg been these last few weeks?" The nervous shifting signaled a direct hit. 

"Why's everybody keep asking that? It's not like he really works here." 

"Jim, that doesn't answer the question." 

"He's been busy. Got exams to grade, classes to teach. You know how he is, burning the damn candle at both ends." 

"And apparently falling down on the job at your end of the candle, huh?" 

Irritated, Jim snapped, "What's that supposed to mean?" 

"It means that I don't think it's a mystery that when the kid's around, you're a lot more pleasant and civilized. I don't think it's a coincidence that this stress you seem to be experiencing might be connected to the fact that he hasn't been around the station for awhile. Is that the problem? Have you been having zone outs or something." 

"No, sir, I haven't been having any fucking zone outs." 

Simon sat back, startled by the unexpected hostility. "Jim, don't forget where you are." 

Coming up out of the chair, Jim started pacing again, suddenly energized with new temper. "I'm sorry, but I get so damn tired of feeling like everybody's watching me, just waiting for me to fall on my ass because Sandburg's not around. I mean, I was a good detective before he came along. I can do my job and I don't need somebody pushing me around all the time to do it the way he thinks I should." 

"Is that what this is about? You and Sandburg have some kind of fight?" 

"No, we did not have a fight. I'm just tired of you thinking I can't do my job unless he's around. I mean, who's to say that he might not just take off at any moment. Then what? You going to hire some other baby-sitter?" 

"What? Are you saying you think Sandburg's thinking about leaving?" 

"Hell, I'm surprised he's stayed this long." 

Simon remained seated, drank some more coffee, and took a deep breath before he continued. Jim still whirled circles around the room, the tension distorting the air around him as he moved. 

"Tell me, Jim, has he actually said anything about leaving, or is this just some leap into panic on your part?" 

The detective finally stopped moving and stood in front of the window, his back to his captain. "He hasn't said anything, but I've been seeing signs that he's getting restless." 

"What kind of signs?" 

"Last week a friend of his got a grant to go off to Tibet or somewhere and you should've seen Sandburg drool. I know before he hooked up with me, he traveled all the time. Hell, you should see the background on the kid. I never realized how much he'd already done before he decided to stay put to do his dissertation." 

"How's that coming anyway?" 

Jim turned, his eyes serious and strained. "He told me that he's been stalling. I mean, I don't know much about how those committee's work, but I'd imagine he's going to have to produce something pretty damn soon or get another extension. Then this thing with Finkleman came up." 

"Hell, I know. That ride along expiration bothers me, too. We've all been working on borrowed time." 

Standing by the desk, he wrapped his arms around his chest before he spoke, the words like dried leather scraping against stone. "Simon, I hate admitting this, especially after what I just spewed out a minute ago, but I'm worried." 

"Worried about what?" 

"What if I really can't do this job anymore without him along? What if he leaves?" 

"Jim, that's not going to happen." 

"We don't know that. Blair might decide to take off who knows where, or the department might boot him out. Either way, I'm fucked. Lately, since Lila and that thing with my Dad, I just haven't been nearly as able to handle these senses. I was getting good there and then boom. It's almost like I'm starting all over, only this time, Blair doesn't seem to want to be there." 

Shaking his head, Simon argued, "I think you're over reacting here. Blair's devoted to you and to this whole sentinel business. Something else must be going on. Have you talked to him about it?" 

"When?" 

"Well, hell, Jim, you do live with the kid." 

"Yeah? You couldn't tell it lately. He hasn't been coming to the station and he's either at school or out every night for the last two weeks. At first I thought it might just be because of it being close to midterm, but it's more than that. He's avoiding me and I don't know why." 

"And you fear the worst?" 

"Yes, I do. I'm not going to beg him to stay. I can't and I won't do that." 

Simon put his cup down and stood up. "You're jumping the gun here. Go talk to him. Find out what's going on." 

"I'm working five different cases, Simon. Blair's at school all day. When am I supposed to talk to him?" 

"Now is as good a time as any. None of those cases are so fresh that they can't wait a few more hours. Go the university and talk to him." 

Shaking his head, refusing to give in. "I'll wait until tonight. If he's not home, then I'll track him down. I've got too much to do right now." 

"Yeah, like terrorize my people? No, I want you to take a few hours of personal leave and get this straightened out." 

"But..." 

"Jim, you either go now, or I swear, I'm going to give Rhonda first shot. Then I'm going to go down the list." 

"Damn, Simon. That's not fair." 

"Hell, how do you think I made captain? Being fair? Not hardly. Now go talk to your partner. I'm tired of you running around lost and crazy, making the rest of us pay for it." 

"Thanks, Simon." 

"Go before I change my mind and drag Sandburg's ass in myself." 

"On what charge? 

"He left you running around on your own didn't he? Sounds like wanton endangerment to me." 

* * *

Jim walked the hallway of the anthropology department near his friend's office feeling strangely nervous. He'd been there a thousand times and yet now all of a sudden it seemed different somehow. 

Extending his hearing, he picked up the familiar tone of his young guide's voice. "I'm sorry you feel that way, George, but I can't very well change the grade unless you rewrite the paper." 

"But you said you'd grade it again." The whine didn't fit with the bass voice. 

"Yes, I did. But you have to redo it first." 

The voice grumbled even lower than before, sounding more threatening. "If I don't get a better grade by Wednesday, the coach isn't going to let me practice. If I don't practice, I can't play and I could lose my scholarship. I need that grade, Sandburg." 

"Then I suggest you get started on it right away. If you can get it to me by tomorrow morning, I can post the grade to your coach by the afternoon. How's that?" 

"You don't seem to understand. I NEED that grade now." 

The words sounded almost like a growl. Jim hurried his step and entered Blair's office without knocking. "Oh, sorry, Chief. Am I interrupting anything?" 

Blair's surprise didn't half match the pissed off expression on the brawny kid's face. "Hey, Jim. Glad to see you. Interrupting? No, George here was just leaving to start on that paper he owes me, right?" 

Reluctantly, the student nodded. "I guess so." As the young man walked past Jim, his irritation flavored his words. "What if I can't get it here by tomorrow morning?" 

"Then I guess you'll keep that D and do better next time. Just remember to document those pages, okay?" 

"Document? Yeah, I'll remember. Don't think I won't." A cat scratching an open wound would've sounded happier. 

As soon as the boy left, Jim turned back to his friend. "What's the story there, Chief?" 

"Laziness. Apathy. Fall of the Western civilization. Pick one." 

"He seemed pretty upset. You think there could be a problem later?" 

Blair considered the suggestion for a moment and then shrugged. "Maybe a bit of bad mouthing, nothing more than that." 

"You sure?" 

"It's cool, Jim. Don't go all hyper-protective on me, okay? Kids have been bitching about grades for awhile now. It's no big deal." 

Blair put down the file he'd been scanning and studied his friend as if seeing him for the first time. "So, why are you here?" 

"Can't I just stop by for a visit?" 

"During a work day? I don't think so, Jim. And please don't tell me it's another dead professor." 

"Funny, but no." Still standing, his nerves uneasy, Jim continued. "I just thought we should talk." 

Blair busied himself, stacking a series of folders that littered the side of his desk. "About what?" 

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe we could start with why you've been avoiding me for the last couple of weeks." 

A pile of books slid off the desktop just as Blair jerked around. "Damn." He reached down to retrieve them and found Jim squatting opposite to lend a hand. "It's okay. I've got it. Thanks." 

After he'd finished picking up the books, the young guide sat down. He still refused to meet the intense gaze. "I haven't exactly been avoiding you. I've just been busy." 

"Come on, Chief. It's more than that and you know it." 

"Yeah, it is, but I really didn't think you'd noticed." The words breathed with a strange, airy sadness. 

Puzzled, Jim stepped closer, cleaned off a chair and sat down across from his partner. "Why wouldn't I notice, Blair? You haven't been to the station for two weeks. You're gone when I get up and most of the time you aren't back before I go to bed. So, what's up?" 

"Nothing really. I've just had some things to think over." 

"Things? Anything you want to talk about?" 

"Not really." 

"Let's try this again, Chief. Big confession time, so don't laugh." 

Blair's blue eyes finally twinkled slightly as he controlled his growing grin. "Don't laugh? Oh, this should be good. What?" 

"I need to know what's going on with you, because, frankly, you're starting to scare me a little." 

His smile faded completely, replaced with a tenderness that softened his whole face. "Sorry, Jim. It's nothing too bad. I sure as hell don't want to scare a big guy like you." 

"Then fess up. Simon told me I couldn't come back to work until I got to the bottom of things." 

"What's Simon got to do with it?" 

Embarrassed, Jim looked away. "Well, I've been kind of surly at work." 

"Surly? Oh, I get it. It's my fault you've got no social skills and making life miserable in the bull pen?" 

"Oh, please. I've got skills." 

"Yeah, for a pre-civilized breed of man, maybe." 

"That is totally unfair." 

"Jim, face it, man, you can be a real shit sometimes. That works with punk criminals well enough, but your co-workers deserve a bit more effort, you know. How hard is it to say please and thank you?" 

"I'm not as bad as that." 

Blair rolled his eyes and raised his fingers to tick off a list. "Want the names of the people who've asked me to teach you better manners?" 

Raising a hand to stop the turn of the conversation, Jim's voice hardened. "Okay, okay. That's not really why I'm here. I don't want to fight about me acting like an ass." 

"Good, because I don't either." 

"Let me finish." 

Blair picked up a pencil and started tapping a fast rhythm against one of the long legal pads on his desk. "Okay. Sorry." 

"Now, I'm just saying that you've had me worried. I was hoping we could maybe go out to lunch and just talk about it." 

"I've got a class in thirty minutes." 

"Since when?" 

"Since I offered to take Allen's for him so he could go on vacation early." 

Frustrated, irritated, and feeling sorely neglected, Jim complained. "Chief, how could you take on more work? Don't you have enough on your plate without volunteering for more?" 

Angrily Blair turned in his chair and faced his friend. "Enough to do? Hell, yeah, Jim. You're missing me at the station, but what about all this work?" He lifted his arms indicating the mass of papers and books that surrounded him, filling his office. "I mean, people just don't sneak in and do any of it for me, you know. Major Crimes has been a little slow lately, thank god, so I thought if I could just have a few weeks of uninterrupted time here, I might get caught up." 

"Not if you start covering other people's classes." 

Taking a deep breath, Blair tried desperately to maintain patience. "Jim, I owed Allen a big favor. Remember when I had to take extra time off and work to help out about Lila and before that your Dad? Well, Allen took over for me. It's how we do things around here." 

"I get it." The words traveled a reluctant path. 

"Well, good, because one of my problems is that I'm really behind on paybacks. There are a lot of people who've helped me out over the last year and I've yet to get around to making things even. I hate being in debt to somebody." 

Jim nodded, feeling slightly ashamed for acting selfish. "I know, Chief. It's my fault you're behind." 

Still angry, Blair's voice tightened even more. "No, Jim, it's not your fault. Damn, why is it you always take the guilt on yourself like that? I make my own choices and I want to work with you. It's just that I only have so much time to go around." 

Hanging his head in disappointment, Jim spoke in a hush. "I know, Chief. It's just that.." 

"What, Jim?" 

"Jesus, this is hard to say." Jim nervously folded the edge of one of the notepads, avoiding eye contact. 

"What?" Watching his friend struggle with speaking, brought on a round of uneasiness. "Come on, Jim. Tell me." 

"It's just that I miss being with you. I mean, I like having you around, you know." 

A wide Sandburg first class smile brightened the entire room. "Gee, thanks, Jim." 

"I miss you being at work, but I think I miss seeing you at night most. I never realized how much we talked." 

"Well, actually, I think I do most of the talking." 

It was Jim's turn to smile. "Maybe, but I like to listen. Every now and then I can get going pretty good, too. And that's the thing. I never used to do that. When I was married to Carolyn, I never talked much. She'd try to get me to open up, and I'd just avoid it. In fact, I really hate to admit it, and I'll deny it if she ever asked, but most of the time, I never bothered to pay much attention to what she was saying." 

"You think she didn't figure that out?" 

"Well, yeah, she probably did. Guess that's why she compared me to her toaster, huh?" 

"She compared you to a toaster?" 

"Yeah, said she could get more out of a toaster than she could me. At least, I sure hope she was talking about communication instead of something else." The expected joke didn't come. The older man looked up to see dark blue eyes watching closely. He cleared his throat and continued. "Well, anyway, I wasn't exactly great husband material back then. I just sort of tuned her out most of the time." 

Pretending to be casual, Blair asked, "And you don't do that with me?" 

Jim focused and shook his head. "No. I don't always understand what you're talking about, but I listen." 

"Don't understand?" 

"Not your fault. Comes with the academic rhetoric. Most of the time it's pretty interesting and it beats cop talk." 

"You've got to tell me if I'm talking off the wall, Jim. I know not everybody's up on the latest anthropological theories and other academic bullshit. I do have a tendency to run on and on sometimes." 

"No, listen. It doesn't matter because I still want to hear it. Your voice, I don't know, I can't explain. It's like this need I have to hear it." 

"Need?" 

Blushing slightly, Jim looked down at his hands. "Yeah, Chief. Need." 

A long silence lasted between them before Blair finally spoke, his voice firm, but not too loud. "Jim, I'm sorry about being away so much lately." 

"It's okay." 

"No, it's not. I should've told you some things, but this is not the time or place to talk about them." 

Jim raised his head, his icy blue eyes curious. "What things are we talking about?" 

"I'll tell you tonight. Why don't I cook dinner at home and then we'll talk? We need to do that." An unspoken urgency vibrated from within the breathy words. Fear scratched at sentinel hearing. 

"Chief, you're still scaring me here." 

Blair stood up, grabbed his knapsack, and started for the door. A grin flashed, but the eyes remained dark blue and serious. "Don't be scared, Jim. I promise that when I talk tonight, you're going to understand every single word." 

"Smart ass." 

Bouncing down the hall, Blair shouted back. "I should hope so." 

* * *

"Thanks, Mr. Sandburg. That was really interesting. I like Mr. Bateman, but it's nice to get a guest speaker every now and then." 

"Well, you helped by asking some insightful questions. Makes the job easier when you know someone's paying attention." Blair shoved the lecture notes into his backpack along with the collected essays. 

"So, will Mr. Bateman be back on Tuesday?" 

"Yes, Julie, and like I said he wants that outline for your term paper by then." 

"I know. Anyway, I just wanted to tell you I liked that talk about the initiation rites of tribal cultures in comparison with modern American subcultures. I never really thought of some of that stuff before. It's a whole lot easier to understand when you hear it. The books don't always explain it very well." The young girl stood clutching her notepads, talking way too quickly. 

"Julie, is there something else you wanted to see me about?" 

Looking away nervously, she glanced toward the door. Moving closer, she spoke in a whisper. "I just thought you should know about George Raymond." 

Alarm bells rang. "What about him?" 

"He's a friend of my brother's and he came over last night. Pardon the expression, but he's a real shit. I wish Jeremy would find someone else to hang with, but, well, George has his attractions, you know?" 

Not quite catching the gist, Blair shook his head in confusion. "What exactly are you talking about?" 

"Most of the kids around here know he deals." 

"Deals? As in drugs?" 

"Yeah, but that's not why I wanted to warn you. He was spouting off saying that he had a plan to take care of people like you. I won't repeat the names he used, but I think you should be careful. He's got friends and they're mean, too." 

A fearful tension tightened his muscles and his words struggled to leave a constricted throat. "I appreciate the warning, Julie, but it was probably just a jerk blowing off steam." 

Worried brown eyes locked with his. "Mr. Sandburg, George is the kind of guy that the more he talks, the more angry he gets. People who piss him off tend to get hurt. Just be careful, okay?" 

"Okay, thanks." 

As Julie turned and walked away, Blair allowed himself a shudder before he lifted his pack to head to his office. He thought about calling Jim, but decided he didn't want to jump ahead. It was just too damn hard to believe a kid could be that dangerous or angry over a single grade. In a hurry to finish up writing his report for his friend Allen, he took a back way to the entrance of his office building. As he rounded the corner, a beefy hand grabbed him around the throat. Breathing shortened and light paled as his pack, ripped from his shoulder, fell to the ground. A jerk to the his long hair brought his head back too quickly. 

"Well, looky here, Mr. Asshole." George's voice hissed in his ear while the arm around his neck tightened. 

Struggling to remain calm, Blair thought of Jim. He tried to keep his voice even as he'd heard his friend do so many times before. "Man, you don't want to do this." 

His feet left the ground for a brief moment as the arm brought his whole body up. "Telling me what I want to do, you little shit? I don't think so." 

"I'm just saying I don't think you've thought this through. You could get thrown out of school for assaulting the faculty." 

"Yeah? Well, they'd have to prove it first. Then that would really be a problem, wouldn't it?" George loosened his grip slightly, still maintaining threatening contact. "You're making my life difficult and that pisses me off, Sandburg. If you don't want to get your ass whipped, you'd better just change the grade." 

Still trying desperately to reason, Blair met the deep set brown eyes. "Listen, George, you don't want to do this. That guy you saw earlier is my friend and he's a cop." The restraining hand released Blair's shirt. 

"A cop?" 

"Yeah, a cop, man, and he's going to make your being pissed off look like a school dance if you go through with this shit." 

George snorted. "Man, what are you, some kind of fag or something, getting your butt buddy to fight your battles?" 

A bright flush burned his cheeks, but Blair held his ground. "No, man. I'm just warning you. I know Jim Ellison and if anything happens to me because some Neanderthal like you decides brutality beats the challenge of the intellect, he'll beat your ass bloody. You'd better reconsider. Just back off and rewrite the fucking paper." 

Stepping back, George studied the angry man with a newfound view. After a few moments, he asked, "What if I did? Would you let what just happened slide or would you run to the dean?" 

Sensing the change, Blair took a deep breath to steady his nerves as well as his voice. "This time I'll chalk it up to being young and frustrated. If it happens again or if I hear of you trying to intimidate another faculty member, I'll turn your ass in. Now, what's it going to be?" 

"Well, hell, guess I'll do the fucking paper then." 

"Which is what you should've done in the first place." 

"Don't push it, Sandburg." George stuffed his hands in his pockets, sniffed loudly, and complained. "Hell, who knew you had any balls?" 

Still shaky, Blair ignored the comment, picked up his pack, and headed off again for the office. Once there, he immediately snatched up the phone and dialed, his voice strong and determined. "Hello, Rhonda? Yeah, this is Blair Sandburg..... Oh yeah? .... Sure, I miss you, too. Yeah, I know how he can be......I'll be there tomorrow, I promise. So, Rhonda, who's the man to know in vice?" 

* * *

When Jim arrived home that night, spicy, aromatic sauces and cheese tantalized and stoked the hunger in his gut. Once inside, he dropped his keys on the table and noticed right off Sandburg dancing like some master chef turned strip tease artist in the kitchen. Dressed in tight jeans, his ass moved in a natural, enchanting rhythm as he traveled from stove to table and back. A leather strap barely controlled the dark brown curls tied at the back of his tanned neck. Stubborn wisps struggled to be free. 

"Hey, Jim." 

The light, familiar voice startled the older man from his thoughts. He blushed when he suddenly realized he'd been staring. His partner had quite the nifty package. "Hey, Chief. Smells good. What is it?" 

"Just some spaghetti. Got the salad made and the rest is nearly finished. I wanted to wait until you got here before I put on that last step." 

"Good idea." 

Hands busy adding pasta to boiling water, Blair glanced sideways at his friend. "Why don't you go ahead and take a quick shower." 

"You trying to tell me I need one, Chief?" 

"As much as I love Simon, man, you reek of his cigars. It's clashing with the plan. Italian food needs to be savored and sniffed without negative interference." 

"I thought I was the one with the sensitive nose." 

"Sure thing. Now, do us both a favor and go shower." 

Just as he started to head upstairs, the phone rang. "Yeah, Jim here." 

"Jim, what the hell's going on?" The captain's voice thundered in the phone. 

"What are you talking about, Simon?" 

"I just got a call from vice. Seems Sandburg tipped off their Detective Wilkes to some kind of huge drug connection at the campus. Arrested some guy named George Raymond and about five others with enough drugs to keep every kid high for a month. What's Blair doing calling in drug tipoffs without letting anyone around here know about it? " 

Glancing over at his still busy partner, Jim rubbed the back of his neck, the tension of a long day settled there like a fist. "I don't know, Captain. This is all news to me, too." 

The harshness drained and concern replaced it in his tone. "Jim, you need to talk to your roommate and find out what the hell's going on. This guy Raymond, from all accounts, was a student, but he wasn't any virgin to crime. Got a history of assault a mile long. If he knows Blair turned him in, and he gets out on bail, it could be a major problem." 

"I know, Simon. I'll talk to him." 

"Do that. And, Jim?" 

"Tell him good work, but next time no solo flights." 

"Thanks." 

As Jim replaced the phone, Blair came up beside him. "What's wrong, Jim?" 

The larger man's entire body tensed and turned. "You want to tell me about George Raymond?" 

"Oh, man, that." 

"Yeah, Chief, that. What the hell happened? Simon just said they arrested him for dealing." 

Blair tossed a dish towel over his shoulder and nodded. "Good. Son of a bitch deserved it. Tried to intimidate me. When I found out from one of the other students that he was not only an ignorant asshole, but a dealing one, too, I turned him in." 

Shaking his head in disbelief, Jim asked, "But why didn't you come to me?" 

Tilting his head, smiling confidently, "Jim, Major Crimes doesn't handle drugs, vice does. Besides, I wanted to deal with it myself. You know, I have learned a few things while working with you besides how to duck." 

Snorting, Jim reached over and lightly batted a forehead, "Well, we're still working on that one, Chief." Seriousness returned. "I still wished you'd told me. I guess I understand why you didn't, but..." 

"Yeah, I know, it's the Blessed Protector thing crossed with the need for absolute control, right?" 

Recognizing the jab, Jim countered. "Well, obviously the control part has failed miserably." 

Blair looking away while playing with the tip of the towel. "Oh, I don't know. I wouldn't say it was all that miserable. You still get your way around here most of the time." 

"Yeah, well, you're good, Chief. You just make it seem that way." Reaching out, putting a hand on his friend's shoulder, he asked very softly, "You okay? He didn't hurt you did he?" 

Blair met his gaze, teal orbs shiny in low light. "I'm fine. And, I do know that he'll probably be out on bail, and I'll be careful." 

Chuckling, Jim shook his head. "Hell, Chief. Maybe you have learned some things. You seem to know what I'm going to say before I say it." 

Heading back to the kitchen, Blair teased, "Guess it comes with being a shaman." 

"How's that?" 

"It means that sometimes I know what you need to say even though you have a hard time saying it, but that's okay." 

"What are you talking about, Chief?" 

"Later, Jim. I told you I wanted to tell you some things tonight, but not until after we eat, okay? I mean, I've got it all planned out." 

"Planned out, huh?" 

"Yeah, military guy like you understands about that. Now, you need to get that shower and quick. The pasta's almost done and ready to serve. Get a move on, Jim. Your guide is hungry." 

Grinning, Jim headed upstairs for a change of clothes. He grabbed fresh jeans, a T-shirt and shorts, and his favorite green sweater. Passing his partner before reaching the bathroom, he found himself admiring that wonderful ass again. Blair's eyes suddenly met his, and Jim turned away, his face hot from discovery. Sentinel ears heard the slight catch of a chuckle as he traveled on to the shower. Damn. 

Under the warm water, Jim troubled over the idea that he'd just been caught giving the eye to his male roommate and partner. He let the steamy water spray away the tightness in his shoulders, but it did nothing for the heavy weight growing between his legs. Taking a soapy hand, he stroked slowly, the image of Blair's ass in his mind. He saw the jeans peeling away, the white mounds exposed, the deep crack holding the heated pleasure. The musky scent of his own arousal pushed him further as his cock throbbed and ached in his hand. He imagined himself parting the cheeks and leaning in, pushing the crown into the slick pucker of pink flesh, the sound of Blair's hiss tickling his ears. A few more fervent strokes broke to a twitch and a sudden arching of stretched muscles coupled with a groan. The spasm sprayed warm cream across his fist. Jesus, he wanted Blair so badly even his throat hurt. 

Climbing out of the shower, he felt guilty as he dried off. He made sure to remove any traces of his secret desire. No clues allowed. As he dressed, he checked the mirror and decided to do a quick shave. In the middle of combing his hair, he heard a knock. "Hey, Jim, you fall in or what, man?" 

"Out in a minute, Chief." 

"Good, because the dinner's ready and I'm on my third glass of wine. If I don't eat soon, I may not be accountable for my actions." 

Pulling open the door, Jim saw his buddy leaning against the wall, arms crossed. His hair, now untied, framed his dangerous face with a wild tangle of luscious curls. A huge, self-satisfied grin introduced a tease. "Have fun in the shower, man?" 

Suddenly nervous again, Jim moved toward the kitchen, avoiding the question. "Let's eat, Chief. I'm starved." 

The voice behind him practically purred. "God, me, too." 

Jim stopped and turned, taking in the dilated pupils, the husky tone. "Chief, you okay?" 

"Sure. Why wouldn't I be? I mean, I've got a great view here. Jim Ellison all clean and hot from the shower. Very cool. Did I ever mention how much I love that sweater? 

Jim thought back and it clicked. "I think you mentioned it a couple of times." 

"Is that why you're wearing it now?" 

"It's my favorite sweater, Chief." 

"Funny. Mine, too. Now, let's eat." 

As his young guide slid past, Jim's brain fuzzed over. The mouth-watering scent of spices and Blair mixed together like a powerful elixir, an enchantment that fogged his vision to narrow down to only the man before him. 

He managed to get to the table without stumbling too badly and watched as Blair poured him a glass of red wine and placed a platter of spaghetti and tomato sauce in front of him with his salad. "Go ahead, Jim. Eat." 

Still overwhelmed by the exotic scents and vision of his partner, he hardly tasted the food or drink. By the time he'd finished consuming the dinner, he had a tremendous buzz, along with irresistible desire to grab his guide and have him for dinner instead. He pushed back from the table and fought to avoid the zone out just to the edge of his senses. His companion ate with an unusual quiet, watching and simply smiling. 

Bringing a hand to his forehead, he felt a palm on top of his. "Jim, are you okay?" 

"Yeah, I guess. I'm not sure what's going on here." 

"Don't you?" 

Jim opened his eyes and found dark blue eyes locked with his. "What's this about, Blair?" 

"Be honest with yourself for a minute, man. You figure it out." Blair removed his touch and walked over to the sofa. He plopped down and then tucked his legs under him. Leaning back he waited for his best friend to make the next move. 

Jim shook his head and then took another drink of wine. Standing with new purpose, he moved to sit beside his partner. He suddenly felt very clear. "Chief, what were some of those things you wanted to talk to me about tonight?" 

Tilting his head, Blair focused on his sentinel. His breathing and heart rate increased before he spoke. "Jim, I thought it was just me for the longest time, but today when you came by the office, I knew it wasn't." 

"Wasn't what?" 

"Wasn't just me in love." 

Jim sat back, visualizing a cliff before him. Too late to step back, he spoke softly but with a rebellious passion. "No, it's not just you. I've been working against it for awhile, but lately it's been too much to handle. I think about you all the time." 

"But why fight it at all?" 

"The same reason you did, I guess. Fear." 

"I'm scary, huh?" The hypnotic voice danced as a feathery touch lightly fanned Jim's thigh. The larger hand wrapped Blair's, lacing the fingers. 

"You bet, Chief. I've been a disaster when it comes to relationships. Guess you know that already." 

"I haven't exactly been textbook perfect myself. But, I guess my question is can we get past that fear and try to be honest with each other about how we really feel?" 

Burning pressure gripped his chest, the words struggling to make sense. "It's not that easy, Blair. I love you and I need you like I need to breathe, but I don't know how to deal with that need." 

Ever so lightly, Blair leaned closer, the air with his words tickling Jim's neck. "What's there to deal with, Jim? Are you afraid I'll hurt you?" 

Sadly Jim shook his head, his shoulders suddenly sagging with the weight of accepting his own weakness. "No, I'm afraid of hurting you, of needing you too much." 

A tongue touched the tip of Jim's ear, a wet kiss and a simple breath. "Never." 

"Never what?" 

Lips sucked the edge of his jaw, nibbling along the edge, gently slicking the lightly bearded cheek. "You could never hurt me, never need me too much." 

Teeth scraped along the sentinel collarbone as Jim's head fell back and exposed more flesh. "Jesus, Blair. Christ." Suction formed over the pulse in his throat, intelligible sentences spun away to empty space. Greedy, but determined hands reached under the hem of his T-shirt and sweater to bring them up and over his head. Heated mouth lowered itself to a hard right nub, bring it up and pushing it back down. Flame spread like a flash fire through his veins, down his stomach, into a cock tightly wound with rich pain. Metal zipper going down rubbed against the angry, stubborn push of aroused flesh. A sudden coolness teased the tip as jeans and briefs joined the clothes on the floor. 

Blair's moans swam up and roared in his ears. He struggled to sit up, while sturdy, more controlled hands pushed him back down. "Stay put, Jim. I haven't even started yet." 

Seeing himself naked, his cock jutting out and twitching, hardened him even more. Blair kneeled between his legs licking his lips, while nimble fingers rolled his balls. His head fell back as every nerve ending for touch fired at once. Breathing stopped and returned only with the sound of Blair's soothing voice. "Jim." A chant with only one word over and over. He felt like a fucking god, power rolling through mighty veins, every cell on alert. 

Finding his own voice, he commanded. "Strip for me." 

Through pleasure-gripped eye slits, Jim watched as Blair stood and slowly lifted the shirt and pulled it off, his dark hair raining down in a veil of fluff and shadow. A furry chest dotted with a silver nipple ring tightened his own thighs. Ever carefully, the young hand unzipped and peeled down the jeans, the full cock springing up from a dark patch of curls. The salty hint of a pre-cum mixed with his own scent, and Jim Ellison clenched his ass cheeks hard. He grabbed his jump-started cock and squeezed. "Not yet. Shit." The holding back stabbed his lower back, but he managed to block the waves. 

The wonderful tingle of Blair's amused laugh vibrated his inner leg as a wet kiss glossed the tender, over-sensitive flesh. "Having a hard time, Jim?" 

"Oh god, what a punk." 

More laughter tickled up through his groin and then all blazes cut loose. Blair's mouth engulfed the tip, tongue and lips suctioning and then releasing. His own groans rumbled up from the deepest part of his chest. Every muscle strained to breaking, tense with the pressure of intense, mind-fucking delight. Fingers intertwined through thick brown curls as Blair's talented mouth raked, sucked, nipped, and vacuumed all along the center of his universe. A flash flood of heat flared, exploding in a swarm of red and bright white, erasing all reason, all memory of previous right. The world only existed in the cavern of Blair's mouth, in the intimate contact of sentinel and guide. With no hope of survival, every muscle fired and he came in a jet so hot it branded his darkest fear, released his deepest memory, and captured his heart. Blair Sandburg knew him, owned him, belonged to him forever. 

When breathing and awareness returned, he saw Blair calming from his own release. His gorgeous guide still sat contentedly between his legs, resting his head on a shaky limb. Sensing the return to present space, the young guide smiled coyly as he tenderly rubbed the fuzzy thigh. "Feeling better, lover." 

"Oh, god, define better." 

"Why?" 

"Because I've never felt this good before in my life. Incredible." 

"Well, I'd hate to think I seduced you for less than a good time." 

Grinning at the wicked tone, Jim rested a hand on the thick curls that formed a halo around his lover's angelic face. "Seduced me, huh?" 

"Well, I must admit, it wasn't the challenge I thought it'd be." 

Fear and insecurity tag-teamed his mind. "What?" 

Blair shifted slightly, barely tracing his nails along the still half-aroused organ so near his love-swollen face. "You resisted so long, I thought you might turn me down, but now I know better." 

Relieved and satisfied, Jim spoke in a breathy surrender. "You sure do, Chief. God, any better and you'd have to call for life support." The older man let his head fall back, closing his eyes while he still ran fingers through silky hair. Peace and comfort surrounded him. 

"Jim?" 

"Yeah?" 

The voice trembled, the earlier confidence failing. "I love you." 

Snapping his eyes open, Jim moved forward and reached down to draw the smaller body closer. The two men spooned together, arms intertwined, Jim's head resting on his guide's shoulder. Settled there together, he whispered into Blair's waiting ear. "I love you, too, Chief." 

The tense muscles relaxed fully. Warmth flowed between them, flesh to flesh. Sentinel and guide formed the bond, but true love and understanding tempered it, would make it last. The territorial roar of the panther echoed in the distant mythical realm of Jim's dreams, his vision now only filled with the perfection of the man in his arms, the man whose heart linked with his most intimate being, the sentinel's soul. 

The End 


End file.
